My hand finds his cheek, fingers skimming the stubble there. For a heartbeat, he doesn’t move... Like he’s still not sure. Like he might push off the bed and walk out. The silence stretches. My chest hurts with it.
“Talen, I want this. I wantyou. Not just tonight but every damn day after.”
Something flickers in his eyes, then snaps. Gone is the hesitation. The fear. What’s left is hunger. Feral and focused, like my words just tore the leash off. He exhales, shaky and rough, then he moves.
Not forward.
Down.
I gasp as his hands lock firm around my thighs, spreading me open. Then his mouth, fuck, his mouth is on me. Hot and devouring.
There’s no hesitation, no teasing. Just a brutal, dragging lick sliding over the place I need him most, ripping a sound from my throat I couldn’t hide if I tried.
“Talen—” I cry out, fingers clawing at the edge of the bed, thighs trembling.
My lungs forget how to work, my hips buck, but his hands are already there, one arm wrapped under my thigh, the other splayed wide across my stomach, holding me down, anchoring me to the bed as his tongue works me, relentless, with devastating precision.
Another gasp tears out of me—loud, broken.
He keeps moving, muscles flexing with every shift, and the black scales of his tattoo ripple with him—curling across his back, catching the low light like they’re alive.
And the sight of him there—TalenVeirmont, head between my thighs—fuck, it hits harder than the pleasure. Something snaps low in my belly, like fire licking under my skin. My back arches, head drops back.
God, I used to loathe that name. Now just the sound of it makes me melt.
“Is this what you wanted?” His voice a low groan against my clit. “Is this what you think about when you’re alone?”
Fuck, if I had been thinking aboutthisI wouldn't have survived the last two months.Each stroke of his tongue is maddening, just enough pressure to make me chase it, not enough to break me.
My thighs clamp down around him, fingers in his hair now, nails digging deep—just tohold onas his mouth rips pleasure out of me like a secret he’s hell-bent on uncovering.
“Tell me, Lyra,” he murmurs again, voice rough with heat, breath hot against me. “Is this how you want it? Me, touching you like this, making you lose yourself. Is this what you need?”
His lips seal around my clit and suck, the shock of it rips through me like a snap of magic. My toes curl, pleasureshiveringlashing through me—sharp and unstoppable.
“Yes, god yes,Talen, don't fucking stop—” I cry as my head drops back.
“Mmm,” he growls against me, the vibration shooting straight through my core. “For two fucking months, since the ball, since that night, all I’ve thought about is this—” His tongue drags slow, deep, claiming. “—you, saying my name likethatwhile I’m buried between your thighs.” He sucks again, hard enough to make my hips jerk. “That sound you make?” His voice breaks, rough and low. “Idreamabout it every goddamn night.”
Fuck, I'm not even going to make it to the Second-year Trials; this is going to kill me first.
And he just keeps going. Same motion, same pressure. Over and over. Driving me higher and higher. My chest works in fast, uneven pulls. I roll into him, and with it, hematches me. The rhythm of his tongue syncing to each tight inhale, each desperate exhale.
And just when I feel like I can't take any more, just as my lungs start hitching, his fingers drive inside. One at first, then followed by another. Hot. Slick. Perfect. They curl just right,pressing toward the front wall, and my whole bodyarcheswith it.
He moans against me, likehefeels it too. “Thorn, come for me, please, fuck?—”
I try to hold on. Try to fight it.
But I can’t.
It builds fast, hard, pressure wound so tight it hurts. My legs shake, voice gone, every nerve screaming for release.
One more flick of his tongue, and everything inside me pulls taut—tight as wire—thensnaps.
The first wave crashes through me, ripping a sound from my throat I don’t recognise. Then another. And another. Each deeper. Crueller.Better.
I can’t think. Can’t breathe. All I can do is ride the storm out, hands knotted in his hair as my hips roll, press into him aching for more.
